


Words Meant To Heal

by thanku4urlove



Category: Hey! Say! JUMP, Johnny's Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied abuse, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Rehabilitation, mentions of eating disorders, mentions of self harm, possible incorrect portrayal of a rehab facility
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 13:41:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20797529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thanku4urlove/pseuds/thanku4urlove
Summary: Yamada knew what he was doing wasn't right, but he had never thought of himself as someone that needed saving.





	Words Meant To Heal

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't take any of the implications in this fic seriously. I love Keito's dad, and this fic was written way before King and Prince debuted, so this was in no way a jab at Genki's situation.

Yamada glanced around, feeling uncomfortable and knowing he was showing it. It impossible to feel at ease in a room of self-destructive people, even if he was one of them.

"Everyone in this class is new to the facility, so today we're going to try and get to know each other." The therapist smiled around the room, not really looking at any of them. Her smile made Yamada nauseated. "We will go through everyone and say our name, then one thing about ourselves. It’ll be fun. Why don't you start?"

She beamed at a girl with short black hair, the cut jagged and looking like it had happened on accident.

"I'm Shida Mirai, and I want to die." She told them, voice a loud and blunt, an unspoken "and fuck you" attached to the end. She seemed to set the example for what to say however, the boy next to her named Nakajima Kento stuttering out that he swallowed twenty-six painkillers. Yamada didn't want to say why he was there, didn't want a room of eighteen young adults knowing that he learned how to starve himself, so he just mentioned something vague about self-harm when it was his turn, then gestured to the person next to him, someone whose real self-harm was obvious, pink lines haphazard across his arms. He didn't mention them though.

"I'm Okamoto Keito, and I tried to kill myself."

When the session was over, Yamada was free to go back to his room. Some of the patients had people to escort them, gentle nurses that kept one hand their shoulder no matter what, but he didn't need one. He had never tried to kill himself. You couldn't show off your new, skinny body if you were dead.

He was even free to eat in the cafeteria if he so chose, where people with depression picked at their grey-washed broccoli and chicken, and those being weaned off sedation chewed angrily at their macaroni, flanked by people poised to spring if their anger spiked. Simply being able to go to the cafeteria outside of your schedule wasn't special though; you were only somebody if you were permitted to go to the room full of utensils and food alone, and Yamada knew he wouldn't be able to go without his nurse. Someone was required to make sure he ate a certain amount for every meal, every day, and make sure that he didn't vomit it back up later.

After dinner he laid on his back, tracing his ribs with his fingers and sighing, thinking over the day. He had nearly been here for an entire week. He didn't hate his body any less, didn't want to eat any more, and still had trouble sleeping.

On the ceiling were messages written in bland, anonymous font, vague positive things that were, in theory, supposed to be the first thing you saw in the morning as a way to "set the day off right". Dumb things like _Recovery is Important!_ and _Don't Forget How Amazing You Are!_

Yamada's eyes landed on one to the left of his vision and he stared at it for a minute, frowning.

_ No-one Can Love You if You Don't Love Yourself First!_

He understood the sentiment behind the message--so many people were in this building because of the comments of others that accepting yourself first would help--but at the same time, it was horrible. He hoped he was the only one whose ceiling was telling him his self-hate made him unworthy of the love of others.

_ "I'm Okamoto Keito, and I tried to kill myself."_

Feeling sick, Yamada rolled on his side and tried to sleep.

Another week, another therapy session. Shida Mirai still fantasized about being hit by a train, Nakajima Kento still had his room searched every night to make sure he wasn't stashing away his doses to take later all at once, and Keito was so silent next to him that Yamada had to glance over more than once to simply make sure he was still breathing.

"Today," the therapist clapped her hands together, the loud noise sending a spike of irritation through Yamada's brain, "we will be sharing something we are grateful for!"

The blank stares she got back were almost comical. Yamada, too, could not think of anything; the request to try was ludicrous.

"I... I'm grateful for my boyfriend." The words were stuttered out nervously by a teenage boy named Iwahashi Genki. The poor thing had a plethora of problems, but the main one Yamada knew, the one that caused everything else, was extreme anxiety. "He makes me relaxed, and happy."

"I'm grateful for my cat." Said the girl next to Iwahashi, Yamada breathing a sigh of relief when he realized that they were going the opposite way of the meeting before, and that he had a good amount of time before he would have to say anything. Maybe he could think of a small comfort in time. His dog? His sisters? Chihiro had been the one that realized how little he was eating and wouldn't simply let it go.

They went around, mentioning loved ones and animals and objects. Finally, it was Keito's turn. He was silent for a long time.

"I... I..." Keito twisted his hands together. "I'm grateful for my parents. They love--" he cut himself off, choking on his own words, on his unshed tears, blinking quickly. "They love me very much. They..."

It was painfully obvious, at least to Yamada, that everything Keito was saying was planned out, and had been said to others before. His parents were at least part of the reason that there were cuts criss-crossing Keito's arms, and he was lying through his teeth.

Keito was shaking too badly to speak, and Yamada found himself reaching out to him, lightly touching his shoulder. Keito flinched as though he had been hit, looking over.

"I'm sorry." Yamada mumbled.

"We aren't going to continue." The counselor said loudly, diverting the attention of everyone that had been staring at them. "You are dismissed. I need to speak with Okamoto alone."

Slowly people got up, looking again at Keito as they left the room. Yamada made to stand but Keito reached out, grip tight and desperate on Yamada's wrist.

"Stay. Please."

"The counselor said alone--"

"I don't want to be alone."

Slowly, Yamada sat back down, declaring

"I'm staying in here with him. You should leave."

He could help Keito on his own. At least, he thought he could, and thankfully the counselor only considered his statement for a minute or two before nodding in consent, slipping out the open door.

"Are you okay?" Yamada asked, silence settling in the room. Keito didn't speak, making him realize how stupid his question was. "Sorry."

It was quiet for a long time, Keito's grip on Yamada's wrist slowly relaxing.

"You said, last week, about self-harm, but..." Keito released him, his words hesitant. "You don't look anything like me."

Yamada wanted to say that there wasn't anything wrong with the way Keito looked, with the fresh pink scars haphazardly across his arms, but there was. It was horrible, but it wasn't his fault.

"I never cut, or burned myself, or anything. I have an eating disorder."

That was the first time he'd admitted it to himself, the first time he'd said it out loud for what it was. A disorder, _not _normal--it wasn't normal to hate yourself for eating more than hour hundred calories, it wasn't normal to feel like a failure when the scale registered an ounce more than the day before; it wasn't normal to obsess over water weight and lay in bed at three am, clenching the sheets and trying not to cry out from stomach cramps. His sister had been right, sobbing at him that he needed help and that he was going to die, and he'd had to hold his tongue to keep from calling her stupid. He had never formally tried, but just like Nakajima Kento, moving him here was something to keep him from killing himself.

"Oh." Keito said quietly. "I... This only happened once. I was in my room, and I was so tired of not being able to stop crying, and I'd heard before that cutting yourself sort of... Distracts from the emotional stuff, or that it's calming, but I was shaking so much that I couldn't do it properly and then I knew they would find out and yell more so I just... They can't yell at me if I'm dead, right?"

Yamada stood, pulling Keito up too with a gentle tug on his elbow. Keito simply stood there for a second, confused, until Yamada barreled into him, his head against Keito's chest, arms wrapping tightly around his ribcage.

Keito hugged him back, and Yamada could feel his body shaking, his breathing ragged and uneven.

"Keito, do you have that poster on your ceiling too? About not deserving love if you don't love yourself first?" Yamada asked. He felt Keito slowly nod, and his chest ached.

"Rip that down tonight. I want you to know that's bullshit."

Keito laughed a little, making Yamada ask "Okay?"

Keito gave him the tiniest of squeezes. "Okay."


End file.
